Simple Pleasures
by kalobuko
Summary: RPxHY A simple story about pleasures and the need of true love.


simplepleasures

Simple Pleasures  
  
Relena sat at her vanity and brushed her hair slowly. She watched her reflection intently, her four poster bed in the background, swept over its cover was a delicate, lacy white dress. Her hands began to tremble and she set the brush down, rubbing a tear out of her eye before it got the chance to slide down her cheek. At her window, the curtains billowed with the wind and the light from a sorrowful crescent moon filtered in through hazy clouds.  
It was years ago when she last saw him in person, and yet he was in her every waking moment like ghost, haunting her. Since the arrangement, she'd been a bundle of stressed nerves, jumpy, paranoid, depressed. Somehow, she knew her life was sliding away. A transitional stage in which she didn't know what to do or where she would go next.   
  
Have you heard anything from my brother yet?  
He's not here, Relena, the maid said, slightly unsure. Were you expecting him?  
Relena took a step back. I was sure of it. Two days ago I received a call from Sally at Preventer. She said that my brother had contacted her, and informed her to make sure that I made it here to see him.  
The maid, Vivian, blinked furiously. I haven't heard anything from Mr. Merquise. I'm sorry.  
Looking up at the vaulted ceiling, Relena nodded and waved Vivian off to finish her duties. Relena scuffed her slippered feet across the wooden floor all the way to the library, where she shut the doors and immediately began searching the bookshelves. Her fingers tripped over the infamous switch and out flipped a panel on the opposite wall. She quickly pulled out a sole key and shut the panel. Then, she eyed the globe curiously and inserted the key into Saudi Arabia. The top half of the globe opened and Relena tucked the key into her pajama pocket. An array of variously shaped decanters waited with a collection of bulbous glasses.   
She took out a delicate curved decanter, not knowing what it was. Shrugging, she plucked out a stubby moderate baloon. Kicking up her feet at the desk in front of two large windows, Relena pried off the top and sniffed the mouth.  
This must be daddy's fruit brandy, she muttered and peered at the bottom of the bottle, _Birngeist_. Pear brandy.  
Remembering how to properly serve brandy, she balanced the bottle in the crook of her wrist and her forearm to pour a perfect ounce and a half into the glass. Happy with herself, she replaced the top. Holding the baloon in the palm of her hand to heat the brandy, she looked up at the second floor. She knew for sure that her father had cigars, just as she'd known that he had a wet bar in the southern hemisphere. Taking a small sip of the brandy, she sucked in her breath and left the baloon sitting on the desk, but took the time to put the Birngeist back in the globe. Relena climbed up the spiral staircase and yanked a cumbersome wooden box from beneath a stack of books and a lamp.  
This has to be his humidor, she huffed, prying the top open. Light to dark, dark on the right.  
A double guillotine for clipping the ends of cigars was strapped to the top, and Relena picked out a greenish double claro before shutting the humidor and restacking the books. Once again satisfied, she padded down the steps with her cigar and guillotine, and found a butane lighter hidden in a Walter Bynner collection of poems. A deep square had been cut out and there sat a shiny blue lighter, which she snatched up. The baloon of pear brandy was still there when she returned, and she peeled off her terry cotton robe to sit down in the deep seated, leather chair comfortably. The paper wrapper was discarded, and she stuck the lighting end into her mouth to moisten it before clipping. Then, using the guillotine, she cut of a quarter inch from the end and tossed both the tobacco and cutter to the desk.   
I'm really a politician now, her speech garbled because of the cigar as she struck the lighting pin. That's for sure.  
The cigar, only an inch away from the flame, started to ash instantly as Relena puffed leisurely, spinning the cigar slowly. She blew out a cloud of smoke and snapped the top shut on the lighter. With the cigar in her mouth, smoldering, Relena spun around on the swivel chair and kicked the massive windows open. She admired the view of the countryside before propping her feet up on a smartly positioned ottoman. The door behind her opened, but closed before she told them to go away. Surely it was Vivian, checking in. Relena drew in the sweet smoke lightly, not inhaling, and blew it out again before placing it between her index and middle finger. Of course she hadn't gone through a coughing fit--she'd done this before. But it was the first time she'd done it with her father's brandy and cigars.  
Ah, the fine pleasures of life, she murmured, reaching back for the brandy. Time to unwind after all this mess.  
She'd been positive that her brother called her back home. But he wasn't there. The arrangement she'd been thrown in was enough, she didn't need to be drawn back to those memories at her home. The dress was still splashed over her bed, the way it had been since she got there. Sleep had only been four hours, a record, and it was spent in her father's favorite arm chair in the sitting room, next to a muted piano.   
Her eyes closed, the glass close to her nose. Suddenly, something slammed and Relena jumped. Maybe it hadn't been Vivian that entered silently. A bit of the brandy spilled, making her wish that she'd chosen an oversized baloon instead. She wiped it away and stood up. What in the--!  
Standing by the globe, with his hand on the north pole, was not the maid, was not her brother, was not even Pagan. It was Heero. He wore neat, pressed khakis and a dress shirt. And he still looked exactly the same. With disheveled brown hair thrown over his eyes with a degrading glare set in them. A fixed expression of utter disgust outlined his countenance. Relena put the cigar in her lips to set the glass down and reach for her robe on the floor. Heero blinked a single time and said nothing.  
What are you doing here?  
What are you going with that cigar?  
She took a drag and puffed rings defiantly. This is a double claro parejo. I'm smoking it.  
Heero spun the globe beneath his fingers. I didn't know that the foreign minister had picked up such deplorable habits.  
And I didn't know you were still alive. Not like I'd know otherwise anyway. Relena removed the cigar and put it in a crystal holder, then picked up the baloon instead. You want to join me? I'm sure father has some strong cognac that would suit you. And I bet that there's an obscuro in the humidor.  
What happened to you?  
She paused, the glass lifted partially to her lips. I grew up. Her hands started shaking again. My responsibilities took over, and now I've got to...  
  
I'm engaged, she took an unladylike swig of the brandy. And I'm about to hang myself with the train of my wedding gown.  
Obviously irritated, she turned around and stormed out onto the balcony. Once there, she fingered the base of the baloon and hoisted herself up onto the edge, making Heero follow her. She dangled her feet, three stories up, holding a glass of expensive fruit brandy, in her pajamas.  
Who are you engaged to?  
Her lips formed the words, The son of a friend of Marquis Wayridge, Philip Rochette.  
Heero didn't sense any bitterness in her voice. I'm sorry, Relena.  
What are you sorry about? It's not like things could be any different, she said it bravely. You were always my inspiration. You know, you kept me from dying more than physically, Heero?  
You always were the damsel in need of protection, remarked another voice, another baritone that shook the foundations of her heart. My little sister.  
Darling Relena, she said distastefully, tipping back the brandy, would someone mind handing me my parejo?  
Heero glanced back at the desk and hesitantly took the cigar to her. She raised her hand up to receive it, not checking to see that he was there, and knocked the ashes off the edge of the balcony as she perched elegantly on the banister. Zechs frowned and walked out onto the balcony.   
Relena laughed, So you did choose to show up. I was beginning to wonder. I even left the windows open for you to come in through them.   
Relena, I know you're going through a strange stage in your life, Zechs told her, a few feet away, but I am still your brother. Even though I'm not the best in the world.  
If you had gotten me into the marriage, she began, I'd already be dead. Don't worry about it. I did it, I'll get along just fine.  
Heero wanted to say, _But you aren't fine at all_, but didn't since he wasn't alone with her. He simply faded into the backdrop.  
Do you like Philip?  
He's sweet, and he loves me, she replied, putting the cigar in her mouth masculinely, the baloon cradled between her knees. He's a good man and I respect him greatly.  
Do you love him back?  
Feeling a knock in his heart, Heero almost left, but decided to stay and listen to what she had to say about this strange Rochette.  
Philip and I get along well, and our marriage would be good for the both of us. Love doesn't exist in a relationship based off of politics, Zechs.  
_She didn't call him Milliardo_, Heero thought. _She really has changed._   
A marriage isn't real if there isn't love, Zechs remarked. Why don't you just become associates, or occasionally be seen in public together. It would amount to the same thing.  
Philip loves me, she repeated, finishing off the brandy, then pitching the glass away from her to fall to the hedges below. He does.  
Who do you love? Zechs prodded.  
I love people. I love the earth, I love space, and I love the colonies. There isn't room for personal affection in my profession. Is there, Heero?  
Her voice was tinged with coldness, and Heero became inwardly angry at her, acting so foolish and selfish. Zechs gazed back at him and retreated, leaving them together, but not before he took a decanter of pomace brandy from the globe, along with a tulip glass.   
Heero broke the silence, I told you, I'm sorry.  
You shouldn't be sorry, she leaned forward, taking the cigar in her left hand, resting it on the banister as she looked into the yard where flowers danced in the wind. It's my fault. And anyway, we're only kindred spirits. There's no need for remorse. We had a remarkable experience together during the wars--or, at least, I did--but that was it. That was it, wasn't it? Or was I mistaken?  
You weren't mistaken, he agreed, you trusted me.  
And now I'm going to marry Philip, she almost ordered, with her tone of voice, and you'll go back to whatever you've been doing with yourself.  
The smoke from the cigar floated away with the wind. Heero felt absurd for being so apathetic with her. True, there had never been any sure signs of her love for him, and yet she made him feel so strangely when she was around.  
You're sure you don't want anything to drink? she asked, not even a cigar?  
Relena, look at me.  
She did, ever so slowly, and he finally caught a glimpse before his very eyes, that the strong vice minister was actually crying. I'm not the same as I was back then, she declared, the crying not evident in her voice, I've changed a lot.  
I have too, he replied. And I came to see if I could make amends.  
What amends? You never did anything wrong. And if you're talking about you and me, a chuckle laced her words, then you're completely doofy. It wouldn't be possible. Not in a million years, Heero. Even if you did love me.  
And what, he stopped short, wondering if he really should do what his heart told him to. And what if I did? Then what?  
  
Relena let the cigar burn in the holder she'd carried with her as she examined her dress, Heero standing at her door, not willing to walk away when she'd believed in him so fervently. It was the least he could do, to see her through it and remain an understanding companion. She held up the white dress and fingered the embroidery. There was a tiara resting on her side table, and her engagement ring hung suspended from a piece of silk ribbon on the headboard.  
This is it. She laid it out flat again and reached for her bag, from which she took a small disk. I have pictures if you want to see them.  
Carrying the disk to a visual on the wall, Relena waved Heero over and pushed it in. A screen popped up and she chose a folder titled She opened a picture that showed her in a violet-hued dress next to a man a bit taller than her, with sandy brown hair and eyes bluer than Florida's waters. Noin and Zechs were in the next two pictures, Relena sitting with Philip in the background, talking. The final picture was of Relena dancing with Philip, her head on his shoulder, looking as if she'd lost her best friend.  
I didn't know I was getting my picture taken in this one, she pointed out. but that's how I felt. Shutting the program down, ejecting the disk and throwing it across the room, she languidly veered around and leaned against the wall. He's a good dancer. But all my dances are saved for you.  
Why is that?  
Because you make me forget what's going on when you hold me. When we were on Libra, right when everything was starting to fall apart, you got hurt protecting me. Right then, I could have passed out because you touched me. You're so intense, like brandy when it's been heated too much. Overwhelming.  
Heero acknowledged this. She was so peculiar that it made his stomach do flip-flops.   
I haven't had a full night's rest since the last time I saw you.  
You're strange, he noted, you're allowing yourself to lose this battle.  
She clenched her quaking hands. No. I'm deluding myself into thinking this marriage is what I want.  
Why don't you do what you want to?  
I'm expected to marry him. Marquis Wayridge would never forgive me if I backed out like a spoiled child. I can't do that. I'm not like that anymore, I can't just run away. I have to stick it out.  
No one would understand if you did what you want?  
Her head dropped. I'd never forgive _myself_ for blindly believing in something that could never happen.  
he was already at a loss of words.  
  
called Marquis Wayridge, hosting a party for Relena and Philip. You look absolutely ravishing.  
I haven't eaten in three days, she whispered to Heero, who treaded inconspicuously in her wake.  
her tone changed quickly to please him as she neared, her arms outstretched. It's so great to see you again.  
As they exchanged in a friendly hug, he muttered into her ear, Who is that man?  
_The man I could never love_, she wanted to say. Heero Yuy.  
They both smiled at each other, as Philip weaved past politicians. Marquis, what are you doing to my fiancée?  
I've known this girl since she was under three feet tall, he said, it's my duty and my pleasure to make sure she's healthy.  
Philip took her hand and kissed her knuckles, making her head spin with nausea. Relena, you look sick, have you eaten?  
_He knows me too well_, she thought. I ate a little something before I came.  
The music started up and the floor began to organize into dancers. Philip grinned at Relena. May I have this dance?  
Relena glanced at Marquis, who nodded. I'll take second in line to the husband to be.  
She then looked at Heero pleadingly. He looked away and retracted. She almost broke into tears. The string orchestra played a youthful tune and the dancers, all mostly friends of friends and parents of younger politicians, started moving in sync. Relena stood bolt upright and placed her hand on Philip's shoulder. Her pale blue dress did wonders on making her look whole, it had even fooled Marquis.   
What song is that? Philip queried, testing her jestingly.  
Tchaikovsky's serenade for string orchestra, she stated, in C major, opus forty eight. Waltz moderato.  
You're outstanding, Relena, he said with a loving smile, the only woman I've ever met that's daring enough to speak in front of politicians and yet can still dance better than a trained professional.  
_Heero's a trained assassin and he can dance better than I can_, she mused. She was glad that she didn't have to lead, since most of her dancing partners were either intimidated or didn't know what to do. They spun and stepped evenly, Relena memorizing each move and remembering how each fold in her dress swept as she searched for Heero.   
  
Minutes passed before she knew it, and Philip was torn away by associates. She didn't see Heero or Marquis, and feared greatly that her knees would betray her. A split second before she broke down, Heero was supporting her. Relena collapsed into his chest and curved her arms around his neck as he circled her waist with his. The violins began sadly, weeping and baying as the dancers began finding their rhythm. Relena buried her face in Heero's shoulder, at last allowing herself to be truthful. A single violin sang out above all the others.   
Heero murmured, I love you.  
Her throat closed up, but she managed to say it back. I love you too, Heero. But it breaks my heart because we can't be together.  
He held her tighter. I'm sorry.  
The familiar smell of brandy and cigar smoke wafted from the tables seated on a higher level. At one table sat Marquis, who had just wavered to look for Relena. His eyes widened a bit as he spied her dancing with Heero in a way she had never danced with Philip. As he watched, the very essence of the song was a sheer parallel to their conflict. Sadness, dim hope, and love that could never truly exist. Marquis sighed and continued to watch them, fitted together so perfectly as if they really belonged. It hurt him deeply to know that Relena was in a situation that she didn't deserve to be in.  
he heard suddenly,   
Philip was standing at the table. Yes, what is it?  
I thought you were going to dance with Relena...  
She's got a partner already.  
Philip followed his line of vision and found Relena with that mysterious man. Who is that?  
Heero Yuy.  
Is that...is that the pilot of one of those Gundams from the Eve Wars?  
Marquis nodded. Yes, yes she's dancing with the pilot of the Wing Zero.  
My god, how do they know each other?  
Philip, they're in love. When you're bound to be with someone, you find a way to meet them.  
In love?  
Philip's jaw dropped as he watched them dance. The music faded in his ears and he found himself slumped into an empty chair by Marquis. Marquis patted his shoulder and took a sip of his own fruit brandy that Relena had acquired such a taste for in recent times.  
Relena confided, I don't want this moment to ever end.  
He nodded, resting his head against hers. What are you going to do?  
I don't know, she wheezed sadly, I don't know.  
  
After the dance ended, Relena caught sight of Philip and took Heero's hand. She fled. She tugged Heero past the other dancers and ran as quickly as her heeled feet would allow until she'd locked herself out into the back grounds. Heero stood plainly nearby as she held her head in her hands and paced.  
I can't go on like this, she repeated, I can't, I can't go on like this. I just can't do it anymore. I can't live a lie.  
Is it killing you that badly? Don't let it happen.  
I have responsibilities to live up to. It's a lose-lose situation, unwillingly, she fell to her knees as pestering tears welled up in her eyes, smearing mascara along her cheeks. I can't seem to do anything right.  
Heero kneeled down in front of her. Relena, you've done nothing but the right thing.  
Why do I feel so wrong? Why does my heart ache so much?  
He ineptly pulled her into his arms and cradled here there. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry? What can I do to make your tears stop?  
The doors rattled, and opened a moment later after the lock had been jarred. Philip stood there, sighing. I just wanted to tell you that the engagement is off, Relena. I understand that you don't love me like you love him. You two are made for each other, just like Marquis said. I'm just happy to have been able to spend such great times with you, Relena. My best regards.  
A lady standing behind him grinned widely. Her named was Madeline Morgan, and she was a premier public agent who'd had her eye on Mr. Rochette for quite a while, and Relena had noted her advances. Heero rubbed Relena's cheeks and tried his best to smile warmly.  
The world will get over it, he said, as long as you want to love me.  
Tears flowing like Old Faithful, Relena hugged him with more veracity than she'd ever had during political speeches. I've loved you since the first day you tried to run away!  
  
Heero rolled a maduro cigar in his hands, it was was a strangely formed belicoso, and he placed it back in the humidor. Relena poured him a glass of cherry Kirschwasser fruit brandy. He stared at the liquid and watched Relena as she filled her own tulip glass. She sat down in a leather chair across from him and raised the glass. Vivian passed by with Relena's wedding dress.  
Miss, what am I to do with this?  
Relena took a sip of her brandy and answered, Put it back in the bag and put it in the guest bedroom. I'm sure I'll find something to do with it.  
What would that be?  
Vivian went off to put the dress away. Relena pulled her legs up to her chest in the chair and set her glass on the table. It depends on what you'd rather do. It matters on if you're the type who wants to get married or not.  
He paused, the glass en route to his mouth. He didn't say anything, but watched her as she shook her head.   
Everything has it's time, he muttered. Don't be impatient.  
A song started up on the stereo, just as Relena'd set it to. It was the same song they'd danced to during Marquis' party. Heero asked what the name of the song was.  
Philip used to always ask me that, Relena remembered, to see if I was cultured.  
I just want to know the name of the song, I already know you're cultured.  
She listened a bit longer and said, Beethoven's violin concerto. D major, opus 64.  
The rueful violin whistled above the others, and Relena finally got a full night's rest. It would be tough, the future, loving a soldier. And Heero knew that it would be hard to stay by her side if things got nasty. But he would have no trouble at all knowing that she loved him. The colonies and the earth would think what they wanted to, all that really mattered was that he had irrevocably found his niche. They would learn to live together, through political strife and the loss of humanity Heero had suffered. But they would live nonetheless.  
  
The end.


End file.
